


Stand Strong Through the Wind

by grayscay



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Civil War Team Captain America, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, No Team Bashing, Sokovia Accords, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Thaddeus Ross is a dick, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:40:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayscay/pseuds/grayscay
Summary: This all takes place after Civil War- Team Cap is having a hard time trying to adjust to the fact of being international fugitives. Steve especially feel a lot of guilt and frustration at their current scenario. But his friends are always going to be there to help him.Dealing with PTSD, anxiety and depression, along with rising foes and villains, Team Cap has to find a way to stay optimistic, even when times aren't exactly fun.How hard can it be?
Relationships: Clint Barton & Scott Lang & Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Scott Lang & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Peter Parker, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers
Kudos: 40





	Stand Strong Through the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to update this weekly, so stay tuned for the next chapter!
> 
> This is basically just gonna be a bunch of post CW Team Cap fics, with some hurt/comfort, fluff and some angst thrown in there. I really want to continue with this one, so I probably won't update Sins of the Savior for a while. Sorry.

The rain padded loudly against the windows on the safe house. Steve sat in the kitchen, watching the water droplets fall down outside. Wanda was fast asleep on the couch. She had been quiet the past few days, after T'Challa and Steve had broken her and his teammates out of the Raft Prison. Steve wasn't exactly sure what had been done to her in there, but they'd barely managed to get the shock collar off without killing her, so that had to say something. Sam, Scott and Clint had looked okay, physically, except for a few bruises between the few of them. All three of them were dead asleep upstairs, still wearing off the effects of the drugs and sedatives they'd been given at the prison. 

Natasha was probably still awake. Steve had heard her walking around upstairs a few hours ago, but he was sure she was getting about as much sleep as he was. Which wasn't a lot. 

They'd talked to each other last night, under the cover of darkness, while everyone else was asleep. 

"You know this isn't going to end quickly, Steve." She'd said suddenly. They'd been sitting together on the couch, watching the night continue on. He sighed and looked away. 

"I know, Nat. I just wish there was something we could do."

She nodded. "If Rhodes, Vis or Tony can get those Accords fixed, we'll be allowed back home. If not..." She didn't say it, but Steve knew what she was thinking.

_We're not going back anytime soon._

Steve had felt a sudden and strong burst of sadness and frustration. Why did things always have to be so _hard?_ Tears had brimmed in his eyes and he had quickly tried to wipe them away before Natasha saw. No use. She was a spy, of course.

She had held out her hand without saying anything. He had taken it, gratefully. They'd sat together until the sun had risen up, the sounds of the night covering the sounds of Steve's silent sobbing. 

"Steve?" Wanda's voice jerked him from his memory. He spun around. Wanda was standing behind him, a thin blanket wrapped around her frail body. Jesus, she looked so much smaller than before she'd been caught and detained at the Raft. Steve was hit with a horrible sensation of guilt. It had taken him about 2 weeks to find the location of the Raft and organize a rescue mission, but even that had been too long. 

"Wanda... are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine. You... you were muttering to yourself and it woke me up, so I just wanted to make sure you were alright." She said softly. Even though she'd been catching up on her messed-up sleep schedule, her eyes still had bags under them. Her hands still shook whenever someone got too close to her, and she still flinched at loud noises. 

_Jesus, Rogers, you call yourself a Captain and you still can't protect your own teammates?_

"Oh... I was just... thinking. Thanks, Wanda. I'm sorry for waking you."

Wanda didn't reply for a moment. She paused before saying, "You don't look alright. Your hands are trembling."

Steve glanced down at his arms, and saw she was right. They were shaking. _Fuck, if I have another panic attack right now-_

"I- I'm just scared, Wanda. Scared for you and Clint and Sam and Scott and Natasha. I dragged you all into this and now you have to pay for my mistakes."

Wanda shook her head. "You didn't drag us into this, Steve. We all made our choices and we all disagreed with the Accords because it was the right thing to do. Please don't blame yourself." 

But Steve had to blame himself. Who else was to blame here? If he'd been faster and stronger and smarter, Wanda wouldn't be jumping every time someone sneezed. Scott wouldn't be separated from his daughter, Clint would know what had happened to his family. Bucky wouldn't be in cryofreeze, Natasha wouldn't have a kill order on her head and Sam wouldn't have bruises all over his body. If he'd just been _better,_ none of this would have happened. 

He placed his hands in his head and began to sob again, red-hot pain throbbing through his whole body. Wanda stumbled forward and threw her arms around him. He hugged her back, and soon they were both crying. God, what a fucking mess of things. 

Wanda began to sing in a foreign language. At first, Steve thought it was Russian, but as he listened closely, he realized it was Sokovian. He only knew a few basic phrases in the language, so he didn't understand what she was saying, but Steve would tell it was a lullaby. Her voice was still shaking and frail, but as she sang, her whole body seemed to relax. 

They fell asleep a few minutes later, with Wanda on the couch and Steve leaning against the wall. The rain picked up against the roof again, harder and louder this time.

It was almost peaceful. 


End file.
